


Where To Begin?

by DeutchRemy



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, The first day of the rest of their lives, We need more fics like this, but who knows, cutest father and daughter ever, hop & el, i wish i could quit them, maybe some jopper, probably just a one shot, yes it's another cabin fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeutchRemy/pseuds/DeutchRemy
Summary: A brief dive into Hopper's head when he first brings El to the cabin.  Pure fluff.  Might be a oneshot.  Sorry, I can't stop myself from writing cabin fics.  Or gate fics.  Please read and review!
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	Where To Begin?

It’s been five years since Hopper has been responsible for a child. To be honest he hadn’t even expected to find the girl, Eleven, in the woods - more than likely the poor thing was chasing butterflies in heaven with his Sarah - yet here she is. Standing in the middle of the wooden floor, their cabin overhaul finally complete. 

Here she is…

Now what?

While confident in his ability to care for this child, Hopper is oddly apprehensive, too. What even is he to her? Is he her dad all of a sudden? More of an uncle-figure? Her guardian? Her roommate? Just a guy she barely knows?

Well whatever the hell he is, one thing is certain - he needs to make sure she understands that she is safe with him, that he is there to protect her and provide for her.

So now what?

Okay, Hop, time to parent - or, you know, uncle, or whatever. It should be like riding a bike - caring for a child, that is - but he seems frozen, unsure of how to proceed. It was easier when they had stuff to do. Now he’s anxious. 

It’s the same anxiety he had when Sarah was four and he was tasked with looking after her and her little friend, Julia, for the afternoon while their mothers had a “spa day”. Sarah he had no problem watching - she was his kid, after all, and he wasn’t one of those crap fathers who considered looking after his own child to be a form of babysitting.

But looking after someone else’s child? That was a whole other story. It was like borrowing someone else’s car. Sure, you’re not careless with your own. Far from it. But you’re extra careful with your friend’s. The tiniest ding and you panic. Someone else’s child is an extra heaping of responsibility for an already-overprotective parent. 

That’s what has him so rattled, he realizes. This is not his child. This is somebody else’s child. Sure, that somebody has brains that are basically mush but this is still her kid. What if he fucks up? What if he was only a good father to Sarah because he had Diane to hold his hand? What if he really doesn’t know shit about parenting? Hell, Diane always did the cooking - suppose he actually has no clue what to feed a child? Suppose she doesn’t get the correct vitamins and minerals and…all that other nutritional shit? Suppose she’ll refuse to eat anything but frozen waffles?

Suppose she doesn’t even like him? Suppose - 

STOP.

This is your anxiety talking, Hop, he tells himself. He had the same exact anxiety when he learned Diane was pregnant. He was overwhelmed with joy, yes, but he was still so damn scared. To bring a new little life into the world and suddenly be responsible for keeping it alive. And you get so attached to this thing right from the start that just the prospect of not keeping it alive is enough to destroy a parent.

The anxiety reared its ugly head again when little Sarah was born. As he was wheeling Diane down the hospital corridor, to be exact. It’s a flashbulb memory - one of those ones that’s imbedded into the brain. He recalls everything with fine detail. A squish-faced baby cradled in his wife’s arms. The way the linoleum floor of the hallway turned into carpet when they entered the main reception area. The way his fingers grew cold and the roof of his mouth began to tingle as he realized he couldn’t remember what his mother told him about how to avoid crib death. Planning a mad dash to the library to check out all of the books on parenting that Diane had insisted they didn’t need.

He gives his head a little shake and the memory vanishes, disappearing back into the vault.

He’s back in the present, this time with a different child to take care of.

TBC?


End file.
